


Veritatem vel Provocatio

by menecio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bastardised Latin, Blanket Permission, Childhood Memories, Established Relationship, Friendship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28450515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menecio/pseuds/menecio
Summary: Dinner at Skyhold’s tavern turns into a retelling of people’s first kisses, and it’s Dorian’s turn.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Veritatem vel Provocatio

**Author's Note:**

> First fic of the year! Fare thee well, 2020. You won’t be missed. 🖖
> 
> This has been in my WIP folder for about a year, so I thought I’d finally post it. Enjoy!  
> (I know the Latin is wrong! It’s on purpose, don’t come after me.)

As per usual, dinner at the tavern with the Inquisitor and some friends has become a small revelry characterised by interesting and slightly bizarre conversational topics. Tonight, everyone has decided to share stories of their first kisses. Predictably, things quickly turned hilarious and full of second-hand embarrassment to boot.

“Go on, Dorian,” Varric says once everyone stops laughing at Sera’s convoluted tale. “Tell us yours.”

Dorian strokes his moustache, then smiles. “Well, my first kiss was with a woman, actually.”

“What!” Sera shrieks.

“Yes, and it gets worse.” Dorian waits until the laughter dies down to continue, “We were a group of unmoderated twelve-year-olds playing Veritatem vel Provocatio, which is Tevinter for—”

“Truth or Dare,” Krem says, almost sighs.

“You ‘Vints really can make anything sound pretentious,” the Iron Bull chuckles.

“You love it,” Dorian says.

The Iron Bull winks at him. “I do.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dorian presses on, “we were indulging in that particular brand of torture while our most esteemed parents talked shop in the next room, when all of a sudden Mamercus Bonosus, who was and remains extremely odious, decided to tell everyone that Livia Herathinos _liked_ me—as in _like_ -like. It was completely unrelated to what was currently happening in the game too.”

Sera boos.

“Exactly,” Dorian says, and everyone laughs again. “So I, being already quite aware that girls did not hold my interest and boys very much did, and not wanting anyone to become aware of that fact, panicked, like any pre-adolescent in their right mind would.”

“And then?” Varric prompts, and Dorian sees he’s jotting this down, the bastard.

“Are you using this for inspiration?” Dorian asks.

“Maybe,” Varric hedges.

“If you’re going to profit from my embarrassing childhood stories, then I absolutely want a percentage,” Dorian says. “It’s only fair.”

“Seven.”

“Fifty.”

“Ten.”

“Thirty.”

“Fifteen.”

“Deal. Now, where was I?”

Varric glances at his notes. “You panicked.”

“Ah, yes. I panicked, like any pre-adolescent in their right mind would. I was both flattered and repulsed, a strange combination which follows me to this day.” He gestures at the Iron Bull, who barks a laugh and then wriggles his tongue at him in a lewd manner. “Yes, very charming. Thank you, dear. But anyway, moving on, I knew that Livia Herathinos was considered pretty and every boy wanted to kiss her, so I decided that the most heterosexual and least suspicious thing to do would be to do just that.”

“Oh, no,” the Inquisitor groans, covering her face with both hands. “Dorian, no.”

“To my utmost regret,” he replies, “Dorian, yes.”

“You just smooched her right there?” Sera asks. “You got no class, ‘Vinty.”

“In my defence, she quite liked it. I think.”

The Inquisitor groans again, then peeks at Dorian through her fingers. “You _think_ she liked it?”

“Well, she did ask for another one,” Dorian says. “To which I said no.”

“You said _no_?” Sera shrieks, grinning from ear to ear.

“Of course I said no! One was more than enough for me.” Dorian rolls his eyes. “That, she did not like, which I, in turn, did not like. And that is how we ended up disliking each other and our parents decided to betrothe us anyhow. Because kissing.”

“This whole story felt like watching a cart full of turnips tumble down a hill,” the Inquisitor says over Sera, the Iron Bull, and Varric’s roaring laughter. “But, like, from the bottom of the hill.”

“Why turnips?” Dorian asks.

“They’re funny-looking.”

“I would argue cabbages would be funnier to watch rolling down a hill,” Krem says.

“Ah, yes.” The Iron Bull nods, suddenly straight-faced. “All the leaves just flying everywhere.”

The Inquisitor seems to think about it, then starts laughing. Sera grabs her face and tries to smooch her in what Dorian suspects is a dramatic reenactment of his first kiss. It looks infinitely awkward and clumsy, so it’s staying true to life. The Inquisitor’s snorty giggles as she avoids Sera’s lips, however, are very different from Livia’s eager octopus-hold.

This seems to indicate the end of their evening gathering, at least in a more group-centred manner. Sera and the Inquisitor continue mucking about while Varric goes over his notes with a pensive frown, and Krem nurses his drink the way he always does when he’s done suffering fools for the day.

Dorian drains what’s left of his pint and stands up. “Well, I’m off.”

“Hang on a second, you skipped all the best parts,” Varric says. “We need the details!”

“I magnanimously grant you the artistic license to fill those gaps in as you see fit. Maker knows you will do that anyway.” Dorian rounds the table, heading for the door, and gently tugs one of the Iron Bull’s horns as he walks past him. “Bull?”

“Coming.” The man finishes his drink and stands up. “See you later, guys. I’m gonna give the big guy his latest kiss, and I’m not gonna say no when he asks for seconds.”

“Or thirds!” Sera says, and the Iron Bull fist-bumps her.

“Do shut up,” Dorian laughs.

The Iron Bull drapes an arm over his shoulders as they exit the tavern. A chorus of catcalls follows them out, and Dorian finds it somewhat fitting that it’s in this place, where no one really fits in but everyone is welcome, that he feels nothing but loved.


End file.
